


Work Ethic

by snarechan



Category: Transformers, Transformers: Beast Wars
Genre: Implied Relationships, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-22
Updated: 2009-07-22
Packaged: 2017-10-22 03:55:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarechan/pseuds/snarechan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dinobot was going to find him no matter the cost, and then he was going to kill him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Work Ethic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [squareofme](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=squareofme).



> Done for Square because w00t, w00t! It's their birthday, it's their birthday, get your freak on! Cassandra Cassidy glanced over this for me, so whatever mistakes remain are my own.

When Dinobot discovered Rattrap’s whereabouts, he swore that he would do unspeakable, _painful_ things to his person. He’d scatter his limbs at each compass point, he’d drag his unconscious body through the rocky desert, he’d use him for sword practice, and as a depth-detector by tossing him over a cliff and waiting for the satisfying _thunk_ he would make when he struck bottom. Dinobot would do all of those things, and carry out many more wicked plans, to him upon his discovery.

He had looked from one end of the vessel to the other, searching in tiny crevices where vermin were prone to hiding and in areas where he typically would not, sniffing about and trying to discover whether the Maximal was attempting to throw him off by lurking in an unusual and unexpected place. Rattrap, to his great chagrin, wasn’t anywhere to be found, not even within the confines of his room. It was a peculiar incident, since all radars indicated he was _here,_ scurrying right under his senses—

Except, he realized belatedly, perhaps Rattrap wasn’t within the ship at all. Slowly turning a glower towards the ceiling, he contemplated blasting a hole straight through it to gain access to the outside hull, but chose to take the better side of valor and went the long way by exiting the ship in a civil, albeit tense, manner. His clawed feet left scrapes in the ground as he stalked and pounded his way alongside the exterior, keeping a close eye on the top. He had returned not too long ago and not thought to inspect that area, having assumed the vermin was lazing about the ship somewhere, and now that it had occurred to him, he knew what to look for.

Near the middle of the Axalon, he could pick up the sounds of tinkering. Though he was still unable to see Rattrap, he reasoned that it could be no one else. In his beast mode, he was capable of accessing that point in only a couple of large jumps, rebounding off of protruding parts until he reached his intended destination. It just so happened that he ended up landing right behind the Maximal he had been searching for.

Rattrap gave a soft squeak at his sudden appearance, stilling in his welding work to tilt his head. When the back of it rested against his shoulders – the furthest it could go without straining his neck – he retracted his shades and peered up at Dinobot. Even if he were not currently kneeling, Rattrap would have been looking up at him. In a way, Dinobot was always pleased to be towering over the louse, no matter the circumstance.

“Yeah; whaddya want, scalebelly?” he asked, apparently recovering from Dinobot’s surprise appearance, and tilted his head back down. His shades slipped back into place over his optics and he went back to work.

“Seeking your company, considering you refrained from blessing us with your existence today,” Dinobot seethed, the open disdain in his voice indicating how utterly sarcastic he was being. “You never showed up for your shift! Do you realize what your irresponsibility cost me?”

“Not a clue, lizardlips, but I’m sure you’re about to enlighten me.”

Dinobot hissed and said, “I had to work _both our shifts,_ you useless imbecile! Back-to-back!”

“You poor, delicate thing, you,” Rattrap mock-sympathized, not bothering to turn around to regard him as he spoke. “I’d make it up to you, honest I would, but I can’t. Too busy fixing this piece of equipment, you see? So sorry, really, I’d help you, but I like I said, I can’t.”

His nostrils flared in indignation, not needing to scent the air to pick up how blatant a lie that was. Rattrap was notorious for his dislike of manual tasks, and his enjoyment in scheming ways to get out of them or pawn them off on someone else gave him away if nothing else.

“What could possibly call for _your_ attentions?” he demanded, leaning in over the other Maximal’s shoulder to inspect his handiwork.

“Precise and, might I add, _delicate_ repair work,” Rattrap sniped, shrugging to brush him off and away. “I have to fit this and that other piece over there back together again. Might take me days to do.”

Following the direction Rattrap had nodded towards, he spotted a large cylinder of sorts that appeared to have been removed to be patched. It was large by the rat’s standards, but not by his, and it was by that token that he transformed to his bipedal form, wrapped both his arms around the section and hefted it up. Rattrap caught the sounds of his change and of him moving the ship component and let out an indignant noise of surprise as he was brushed aside. With hardly any effort put to the task, Dinobot dropped the device on top of the part Rattrap had been working on moments before and gave it a firm twist to ensure that it was settled into place.

“Uh, Dinobutt, it’s on backw-”

“I don’t _care,_ ” he said, snarling, and turned on him. Dinobot was pleased to note that he could still startle him, as indicated by his jumping back a whole step at them coming faceplate-to-faceplate. “Your duty now is to the safety of your crew. The finishing touches of this job can wait until after!”

“Yeah, _right,_ I just bet you don’t want to do the next shift with one of the others! Is it Cheetor or something?”

Dinobot did not deign to relate some kind of response to that, instead picking up Rattrap right there and then and tossing him over his shoulder. If the other would not come by choice, then he would personally escort him there himself.

“What are— _put me down!_ ” Rattrap protested loudly, struggling and shouting obscenities that would have made a weaker warrior blush in embarrassment or gasp, wondering why they had never picked up that particular insult prior.

“Not until we are well inside the confines of the ship,” Dinobot said, and he meant it, tightening his hold and keeping him close.

-Fin-


End file.
